


Souvenir

by thedevilchicken



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Imprisonment, Post-Canon, Sex Pollen, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-11-02 02:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20595860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: The pollen did three things: it took away their connection to the Force, it took away every last one of their memories, and it told them they should be lovers.





	Souvenir

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NekoMida](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoMida/gifts).

The pollen did three things that Rey can remember. And, at this moment, she's fairly certain she can remember everything. 

The first thing it did was take away the Force. Not that it literally _took away the Force_, of course, but that was precisely what it felt like at the time; she'd never realised before then just how present it had always been to her, even back on Jakku before she'd known that was what it was. There was a dizzy, lurching moment not particularly long after breathing in the sticky-sweet dust when she understood that what she'd thought was everybody's normal was actually whole systems away from it. The way she experienced the universe around her changed fundamentally with the pollen in her system. It was terrifying, because she knew she'd never felt so genuinely alone before. Not in all her life, and she'd been technically alone for most of it.

The second thing it did was take away her memory. She felt it start to slide but it was over quickly, not that she knew that at the time. She remembers knowing it was happening, and hating that it was happening, and _panicking_ that it was happening, feeling her memories sift away one by one through all the cracks the pollen had opened. If she concentrated, she could almost feel the spaces where they'd used to be, all ragged edges where a face or a place or a feeling had been. And then, she'd known nothing. Not her name, not where she was, not what was happening to her, and absolutely not what to do about it. All she had was the certainty that something was profoundly wrong, but she had no way to place what that thing was. 

The third thing it did was tell her with absolute crystal clarity that if the man standing in front of her wasn't her lover then he really ought to be. That was something to hold onto, at least, and she held onto it tightly; she knows now that's the way it gets you. It's the reason why the Empire never used it outside their sordid little lab tests. Because her connection to the Force has come back now and her memories have come back now, too, but the other thing...somehow she still feels like Kylo Ren should be her lover. It's a feeling she absolutely cannot shake. 

The Resistance found them before the pollen had worn off and Rey remembers thinking she wasn't sure if the well-dressed woman (in the fancy jewellery that she was faintly aware she could've lived on for at least a year back wherever she was from) was pleased to see them both or disappointed by it. When they put handcuffs on him and took him away but didn't take her with him, she supposed maybe it was pleasure for one and disappointment for the other. Everyone else seemed to feel that way, too, from the looks on their faces, but she watched him go, wishing they hadn't taken him but unable to form the words. When he looked back over his shoulder as they hauled him away, she could tell she wasn't the only one of the two of them that felt like that.

Then they asked her questions about what had happened and all she could say was that she didn't know, _she didn't know_, she couldn't remember. The woman in charge put her hand with all its heavy rings in the air right in front of her face and she said, "I'm sorry, Luke was always better at this," and then she felt her in there, in her head, poking around. She knows now that Leia couldn't have seen anything because that's not usually the way it works; she just hoped she'd shake something loose and Rey might be able to tell them things. All it did was make her sneeze instead, or maybe that was just what was left of the pollen. 

The pollen didn't wear off in lengthy stages any more than it had started that way; she spent four days confined to the infirmary and then suddenly, one morning, she woke up and when she left the bed she didn't walk into the tray table that the med droids had kept leaving in different places all around the room; she knew exactly where it was without looking. She could feel the walls and the corridors and the fact that they were on a planet, not a ship, and that wasn't just because the hum of a ship's deck plates can sometimes give it away. She'd learned that quickly, when she'd left Jakku. 

She told General Organa she remembered. She told her she remembered everything, not just where she was from. She told her she remembered what happened and they might want to burn all the plants - all the pollen - that they'd found in the old Imperial lab she'd been sent to. And then, once she'd been granted permission, she went down to the cells. 

That's where he still is now. It's a different cell because he broke out of the first one, back at the resistance base, almost too easily; the second, on their ship bound for the core, he only found a fraction harder; the third, all it took was the mind trick and an unexpectedly weak-willed guard. But the fourth, that's where he'll stay. He has his connection to the Force back now, and he has for years, but it's not enough to get him out - a long time ago, the cells were designed with Jedi in mind, and even he isn't strong enough to escape it. She could, though. She's absolutely certain of that. 

"What do you want?" he says, when he feels her, before he sees her. He has his back turned, as if knowing it's her just from her presence in the Force will impress her. It doesn't. It hasn't for a very long time.

"You know what I want," she replies, because she knows he does. The pollen gave them that, at least, like a lasting souvenir. 

Back at the lab, neither of them had understood what was happening. She knows now that she'd gone there to find him, and he'd gone there for the secrets it might hold; she knows now that when she used the Force to throw him up against the glass, it shattered, and the shards disturbed the plants there on the other side. The pollen was thick, and it was sticky, and it billowed out of the containment lab in a blue-purple cloud that clung to everything it touched. She'd breathed it in before she could stop herself. So had he. 

Then, once she'd forgotten everything she'd ever known right down to her name and his name and the fact she not-quite-hated him, when all she knew was a kind of raw desire that gnawed at her, they did what seemed to make most sense. 

As she stands outside his cell, she lets herself remember. Most of the time, she pushes it out of her mind; she has a job to do even now that the resistance has restored the Republic, and she's found ways to set him aside. General Organa is now Chancellor Organa and Rey has spent nine years hunting down the First Order's scattered remnants, but sooner or later it all comes back to this. To this place. To this cell. To _him_.

In the lab, they didn't even take the time to strip each other. They pulled aside just enough of their pollen-dusted clothes for him to slip one hand between her thighs and press it there against her cunt, and trace the slit between her lips with the tips of all his fingers. She remembers the way the pollen made her shiver to her bones when he touched her like that, and how she wrapped the fingers of one hand around his cock while she clawed at his neck with the other. There was pollen on his fingers when he pushed them up inside her and it made her throb, and it made her tense and hiss a breath against his neck. There was pollen on her lips when he kissed her and he was almost shaking from it when he pressed her up against the wall, and lifted her, and opened her, and pushed himself inside her. 

She could feel the pollen in her mouth, against her tongue, her teeth, sweet and rich and thrilling. She could feel the length of him inside her, filling her, thick and hot and hard and pushing deep. When she came, he came. And then they did it again. And then they did it _again_. When the resistance came for her, when they took him away, she could almost still feel him inside her. When they took him away, his come was still slick against her thighs. And maybe she remembers now, remembers who she is and who he is and precisely what they are one to the other, but that doesn't change the fact of what the pollen did to them. 

In the lab, they didn't even take the time to strip; here, in this cell that he can never leave, his skin's already bare. When he turns, and he goes down on his knees on the hard prison floor, he's already hard. Underneath her clothes, she's been wet since her ship landed. She's been wet since she left the Senate. She's been clenching her fists to keep from coming just from the thought of what she's there for. Once or twice, that hasn't helped.

She knows what will happen next, because it's happened before. She'll take off her clothes and she'll go inside the cell and he'll put his mouth between her thighs and before he's even touched himself for a single, solitary second, he'll use his tongue to make her come. He'll use his fingers and it'll feel like they're still sticky-slick with pollen as he licks her till her muscles tremble and her hands tighten into fists in his long hair. She'll gasp and tense and clench around his fingers and then she'll push him down and straddle him and rub her overstimulated clit against his cock until she can't stand it anymore. She'll push him up inside her in one sharp, practiced thrust. His face will flush. He'll be angry but not. He'll glare but he'll kiss her and he'll taste just like her. She'll like that. She always does.

He's been here ever since the war ended, since the trial half the galaxy didn't really believe he deserved. She's the only one who's ever permitted to see him because the Senate's convinced she's the only one they can trust. No one else visits but when she steps inside the cell and touches him, when she runs her fingers through his hair, he really doesn't seem to mind that. He waits there for her. His whole life is waiting. At moments like this, she knows he's not the only one.

The pollen did three things: it took away the Force, it took away their memories, and it told them they should be lovers. 

Two of those things wore off.


End file.
